Nothing But the Truth
by MandyLeigh87
Summary: Bella is drowning in a failed marriage when her husband's latest secret shows up on their doorstep. The town calls his murder a horrible tragedy, they call it sweet revenge. And that's enough, for now. But when a beautifully broken boy from Bella's past finds his way into her life, she refuses to tell him the truth about it all. Because this truth? It would ruin everything. B/E M
1. Chapter 1

The metal is ice cold, unforgiving, against my legs. Almost as unforgiving as the cuffs slipped around my wrists. He watches, circling the table like a hawk to his prey, eying me with cool calculation. I hope that inside he's frantic, hurting. Maybe a little undecided about what he has to do. I don't blame him if he isn't. It's not his fault, this whole thing. He's just doing his job.

"Would you like something to drink?" He asks, leaning against the gray brick behind him.

The room is small, almost suffocating, like the four walls are closing in on me with each passing second. I know I'll tell him everything. I've kept it inside for too long, so surrounded and barricaded in hate and anger that the truth was safe. But, I didn't expect this. I didn't expect him.

"No, I'm fine." I shake my head.

"I'm sorry about the cuffs," he whispers.

"You're doing what you have to do, Edward."

The moments pass slow, dragging on so painfully that I'm scared they may bruise me. Tear me up. Rip me apart. Because what's waiting on the other end of those moments is the end of it all.

I don't know what I expected, really. When this whole thing started. I guess I always knew this could be the end game, but I took the risk. Because it was worth it to me at the time.

Edward's boss, Carlisle, steps inside the room and slaps a file down on the table in front of me. Edward watches me from the doorway, conflicted. The sweat beading on his forehead matches my own.

I'm not scared of the punishment necessarily. I can handle it. The confinement, the simple living. The imprisonment or even death. But the one thing I cannot handle is being away from him. If had known someone like him existed before all of this, things could have been different. But they're not and there's no use in dreaming over things that can't be. Not anymore. So, instead, I focus on the now. On what I know is hiding in that file in front of me. And how it's time to let it all go.

"So, Mrs. Volturi," Carlisle starts. I take a deep breath. "Tell me exactly how you murdered your husband."

* * *

**A/N: Hello, lovelies! Long time, no see! I've been keeping myself busy working on my 2nd original novel and haven't really had plot bunnies hit me much in the FF realm lately, but this one has seemed to stick so I'm going with it! Right now at this very moment, I have about 4 chapters written, so to hopefully avoid a major delay in updating, I'll probably update every 1-2 weeks until the story is complete and then possibly update more frequently. If something happens and I expect longer periods between updates, I will update you on Facebook and/or Twitter.**

**This story may have a couple of triggers for some people, if you're worried and need more info, please PM me and I'm happy to talk to ya. **

**I don't own any of these characters and don't pretend to, but I sure as hell do own a lot of original characters that I'm playing with in some original fiction that I hope to publish someday. If you are interested in following either me in either original fiction/real life or my fandom social medias, here's the info!**

**Facebook: Mandy Leigh (Fandom FB)**

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**Twitter: MandyLeigh010 (Fandom Twitter)**

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**I hope to hear what you think, and would love to hear from you on social media! Thank you to my loyal and new readers, you guys keep me going and have been the most beautifully, strong foundation for my writing to grow. **

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	2. Chapter 2

**One Year Ago...**

"Honey, your phone is ringing," I call into the bathroom. The steam from his shower billows out into our bedroom. "Honey!"

He loathes when I try to answer his phone. Says it's mostly business. That his boss would be upset. I don't know why, but I don't question it. I know he's under a lot of pressure at the office, taking on a lot of important cases. I guess I should be happy he's doing so well. The selfish part of me just wishes he was around more often.

"James?" The phone rings again. I'd hate for him to miss an important call. I bite my lip, convincing myself just to answer it. The Caller ID tells me "R" is calling. I scour my brain, trying to figure out who it could be. Possibly one of the partners. He doesn't tell me much about the people he works with.

By the time it rings a third time, I'm annoyed. Despite his best efforts, my husband has managed to choose the most obnoxious ringtone known to man. So, I do it. I answer the phone.

"Hello?"

Silence. Then, breathing. Then, a confused stutter. "I'm sorry, I must have the wrong number," a woman's voice says. She immediately hangs up.

The uncertainty and fear burns in the back of my throat like a hot fire poker. How can it be the wrong number if it's programmed into his phone? I set it down and back away, like it's poison.

"Bella?" James slinks into our bedroom, wrapping a towel around his waist. "Baby, I know you wanted to talk about the whole...baby thing tonight, but I've got to head into the office. Big case."

"Okay," I stammer, trying to sound normal. _Normal_? How is normal even possible right now? My hand grips my robe, pulling it away from my neck because I can feel it closing in on me. Suffocating. The entire world could come crashing down around our house and I wouldn't have a clue. All I can see is that damn phone. And the woman on the other end of the line.

I can't even comprehend having the baby discussion, the one we've had a million times and are supposed to have for the million and one time tonight. About how he's not ready. About how we'll know when the time is right. About how we still have our whole life ahead of us. The same conversation we've had for the past five years.

"You alright?" He asks, kissing the top of my head.

"Yeah." I take a deep breath. "Just tired."

"Well get some sleep. Don't wait up, it might be another all nighter."

His words make me want to throw up.

The phone rings again and he immediately snatches it off the bed and answers. He glances at me, rolling his eyes playfully like he's getting an earful from his boss.

"Yeah, I'll be right there. See you in a few." He disappears into the bathroom and emerges minutes later dressed and ready to go. "I'll see you tomorrow night for dinner? How about spaghetti? I know it's your favorite." He kisses me, but I don't kiss him back. I stand, still as a statue, as he smiles and starts towards the stairs.

"Honey?" I call, clearing my throat. "You forgot your briefcase." I grab the leather case, the one I got him for his birthday last year, and hand it to him.

"Oh!" He shakes his head. "Thanks. Swear I don't know what I'd do without you."

I manage a sad smile. He doesn't see that it's not real.

As soon as he's gone and his headlights splash across the bedroom wall, I sink to the floor.

Images fly through my brain, like flipping Polaroids one after the other. The nights he comes home smelling like strange perfume. All of the unfamiliar shirts I wash of his. The beautiful watch he came home with after a business trip last Christmas. They add up, stack up, towering over me like a dark shadow. This is it. The final blow.

_There's someone else. _

I turn off all the lights and crawl into bed. Sleep doesn't come. The anxiety does. The sinking, all-consuming feeling of being entirely alone that has nothing to do with his so called work tonight. I don't feel that connection from him, like I'm reaching out, grasping for even just a thread of emotion, _real _emotion from him. My finger tips always end up empty.

It wasn't always this way. When we first met in college, it was like I realized all of the parts of me that were missing. I found them in him. Now, those parts are rotted and mangled, destroyed beyond recognition. Maybe he doesn't complete me at all. Maybe he's more like a parasite, feeding off my body and my heart and now there's nothing left.

When I wake the next morning, he's in the shower again. His clothes lay in a heap on the floor, wrinkled and crumpled. I pick them up and head downstairs to the washer. I add them to the pile and separate the lights and darks. As I throw them into the machine, I count three shirts that I didn't buy for him. I grit my teeth and grab his pants. There's a small box in one of the pockets, so I pull it out. Looks like a small jewelry box. My heart leaps. He got me jewelry.

A small smile plays on my lips as I open the box. It shoots open, displaying a beautiful emerald ring settled in the pillow.

_He's going to hate that I ruined the surprise!_

I slam the box shut, shove it back into his pocket, and race back upstairs. Luckily, he's finishing up in the shower when I set his pants back on the floor just like I'd found them.

My smile lingers as I watch him in the shower, a naked silhouette behind the foggy glass. I overreacted. My imagination ran wild again. And I was all wrong. I was wrong about him.

My pajamas fall to the floor and I open the shower door. He turns, water dripping from his hair down his face and his bare chest.

"Can I join you?" I ask, cocking my eyebrow. We need this. We haven't had sex in a month. I blame his hectic work schedule.

"Baby, I'd love to, but I'm exhausted." He kisses me and slips past, grabbing a towel for himself. "You gonna shower?"

I look down at the floor, embarrassed. Why am I embarrassed? This is my husband, but standing naked in front of him, rejected, I feel more exposed and vulnerable than ever.

"Sure," I mumble.

"Make it a quick one. I probably used all the hot water." He smiles and leaves, towel wrapped around his waist.

I stand in there until the water turns cold a few minutes later. When I get out, his pants are gone and he's passed out in bed.

After I get dressed, I call my sister and ask to meet her for coffee. I need to get out of this house.

I walk the few blocks to Beans, my favorite coffee shop in the entire city. Alice meets me there a few minutes later and we sit by the window, watching the rain slide down the glass as the puddles from outside.

"Bella?" Alice pokes me.

"Yeah?" I turn from the window and take a sip of my coffee.

"Are you even listening to me?" She asks.

"I'm sorry, I'm just really tired."

She sits back and crosses her arms over her chest, a sign that she's about to tell me something that I probably don't want to hear.

"For the past few years? Bella, you've been completely out of it lately. What's going on?"

I could hide it from James. The depression, the sadness. I can't hide it from her.

"Nothing." I shake my head.

"Is it Mr. Wonderful?" She used to say that like she really meant it, now it's with more venom than a snake's bite.

"He's been working a lot," I say.

"_Please_," she says. "That's his choice. Just like he chose to marry you. I only see him fulfilling one of those commitments and it's not being a good husband to you."

"He bought me a really beautiful ring." I blush, just thinking about it. I wonder if he'll give it to me tonight.

"Really? Let me see it." Alice loves jewelry.

"Well, he hasn't technically given it to me yet. I found it in his pocket."

"Bella," she scolds.

"It was an accident."

She laughs, sipping her coffee as she looks around the shop. Her eyes stop at the cash register, narrowing in on someone in particular. "Do I know _him_?"

"Who?" I turn around in my seat and see a man in a police uniform standing in line. His face is obscured a little by his hat, but I see him. And I know him too.

"I swear he looks familiar," Alice says.

"That's Edward Cullen. Remember the transfer student in high school? He came in during the middle of my junior year."

"Didn't he used to sneak behind the school to smoke cigarettes?"

"Yeah." I nod, but decide not to tell her that I bummed one off him once. It was the only interaction I'd ever had with him. He didn't really talk to anyone. Kept to himself mostly. Although I suppose at a small high school where everyone knows everyone, not many people were too keen on talking to an outsider either. He didn't even come to graduation.

The thing I remember most about him was his car. An old classic when all of the other kids were zooming around in brand new cars their parents bought for them. He was just this beautifully broken boy leaning up against a red Camaro.

"Wonder what he's doing in Seattle? He didn't stick around Forks, did he?" Alice asks. I love my sister, but she's quite the gossip hound.

"I don't know. I was too busy doing the college, love, and marriage thing to keep up on random people who I didn't really talk to in high school," I tease.

"Whatever. Let's shop." She scoots out of her seat and heads toward the door. I collect my things and follow. Edward is just ahead of us at the exit. When he spots us coming up behind him, he holds the door open. As I pass by, I look up and mutter a thank you, nothing more. For a moment, I think he recognizes me, but it passes when he nods and walks away without another word.

"He's gotten handsome," Alice says, glancing behind her to watch him walk away.

"You're married," I say. "And I don't know, I always thought he was handsome." I follow her gaze. As he crosses the street to his car, he looks back at us, catching us right in the middle of our gawking session. Flustered, I quickly turn forward and finish off my coffee.

While we're at the store, I buy some new lingerie, hoping I can try again tonight with James.

As soon as I walk into the house, I smell oregano. He's cooking.

I peek into the kitchen. He's got some old time music playing on the radio and an apron wrapped around him. The pot on the stove is steaming and the air is so delicious I want to eat it.

"Smells good," I say, setting my bag on the table.

"Oh! Hey, baby." He spins around and kisses me. "Where've you been?"

"Went shopping with Alice."

"What's the damage?" He asks, wondering how much I spent.

I pull out the lingerie. "I don't know if I'd consider this damage."

"Very...very damaging." He smirks, and for a moment he almost looks like the man I met in college. Almost.

"When's dinner ready?"

"Probably about fifteen." He goes back to the stove and stirs the pot.

Dinner is divine. We flirt with each other. Eat exquisite food. The butterflies are back again like they never left in the first place. And even though I shouldn't have seen it in the first place, I keep wondering when he's going to give me the ring.

We make our way up to the bedroom and I push him down on the bed. "Be right back." I scoot to the bathroom with my new purchase in tow. I take my time undressing and dressing, brushing my hair and cleaning up my makeup.

When I exit the bathroom, the room is dark.

"James?" I call, reaching for the light switch. The lights come on and I find him under the covers, on his side...asleep.

My breath quickens. Those butterflies in my stomach fall, dead.

"Turn off the damn light," he mumbles. I flip the switch, crawl into bed, and silently cry myself to sleep while he snores next to me, unaware that he's breaking my heart into a million pieces.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading! **

**What an awful cycle to go through in a relationship. :(**

**I do want to mention that this story was inspired by "Two Black Cadillacs" by Carrie Underwood. **

**Again, thank you so much for your support. Special thank you to ImHereToReview, who has been my other half for prereading, brainstorming, and a million other things that mean a lot to me! :D**


	3. Chapter 3

The endless cycle continues. The brief ups and disastrous downs of it all. He never presents me with the ring. We never make love. And we never have the baby talk. Now, I'm questioning even having kids. I would never bring them into this kind of marriage. Where there's a whiplash of emotions between their mother and father. Where their mother isn't one thousand percent sure that their father is enamoured with her. Where she doesn't feel like she always believed a marriage should feel. Where she is so alone.

The days start to blend together. A continuous stream of late night meetings and business trips. Falling into bed without a word and rising before I wake. He becomes a stranger all over again. Until one day, where I find out exactly who he is. Right down to his rotten core.

I'm doing dishes in the morning. James is at work and leaving for a business trip straight after. He'll be gone for two days. Lately, I've been enjoying the time when he's really gone. It's better than when he's here and gone in his mind.

When the doorbell rings, I wonder if Alice is making one of her unannounced visits. I start wiping my hands and walk towards the front door. I throw the towel over my shoulder and pull it open. A pretty blonde woman stands still as a statue, her mouth fixed in an expression of surprise.

"Can I help you?" I ask. Maybe she's trying to sell something.

"I'm sorry, I must have the wrong house." A shock courses through me the moment I hear her voice. I know that voice. She quickly begins to scamper back towards her car that's parked at the curb.

I close the door and stand in the foyer, going through it all in my head. Where do I know her voice from?

The doorbell rings again.

I slowly pull the door open and find her there again, her eyes red and wet with tears.

"I'm sorry. Does James live here?" She asks.

"Yes." I nod. "How can I help you? I'm his wife."

"Oh, God," she whispers. She collapses onto my front steps, sobbing into her hands. "I knew it. I knew. I knew," she says, over and over as she rocks back and forth.

I lower myself down beside her and pat her shoulder, unsure of what she's so upset about. She obviously wasn't expecting to find me here.

"I'm Bella," I say. "Would you like to come inside? I can get you some water."

"I'm Rosalie. And yes, that would be nice. Thank you." She sniffles and we both stand. As she grabs her bag, something on her finger stops me in my tracks. The emerald ring. What I thought was _my _emerald ring.

I don't say a word. Mostly because the lump in my throat doesn't allow me to.

I lead her to the kitchen and grab a bottle of wine because I need it. And she looks like she needs it.

"My favorite type of water," she says, offering a small smile.

"Mine, too." I uncork it and pour two glasses.

I finally realize where I know her voice from. That phone call. The one that I answered on his phone. She's R.

"You called a few weeks ago," I say.

"You answered."

"Why did you tell me you had the wrong number?"

"Because I was in denial. Why didn't you call me back?"

"Because I was in denial."

We both knew what this meant. It's almost too hard for me to even think the words. He was leading two lives. One with me and one with her. Even though it's going to kill me to hear about it, I need to know about her.

"Give me just a minute," I say. "You can have a seat in the living room, right through there."

I retreat to the bathroom and splash some water on my face. It's impossible to prepare for the conversation we're about to have. It's impossible to hate her because I saw the utter shock and devastation on her face when reality hit her. The reality is that her world and my world are the same. And it's just been blown apart.

When I'm ready..._ready_. I don't know if I'll ever be ready for this conversation, but I have to be willing to hear it at the very least. Let me rephrase. When I'm _done _in the bathroom, I join her in the living room. She's nervously running her finger along the bottom of her nearly empty wine glass. Her eyes are fixed on our mantle, where our wedding photo sits in a pretty silver frame.

"How long have you been married?" She asks.

"Over six years."

She sighs and finishes her glass. "Wow."

"When did you meet him?" I ask, settling into a chair beside the fireplace.

"Almost two years ago. At a work conference."

"Are you a lawyer too?"

She laughs. "Heavens, no. I run a catering business. We catered one of the dinners."

The silence that follows is thick and congested, clogging up the room so badly that I feel like I can't breathe. The ring on her finger captures my attention like a flashing neon sign.

"The ring," I mumble.

"He just gave it to me. Proposed on my birthday."

Proposed. He got down on one knee and asked her to be his wife. Those memories should only be mine. Now, he's sharing them with someone else.

"I thought it was for me." The tears sting my eyes and no matter how hard I fight to keep them there, they fall freely down my cheeks one after the other. She surprises me when she slips off the couch and kneels in front of me. When she wraps her arms around me, I feel her pain. And God, I feel mine.

We cry together for the lives we've lost. The ones we thought were everything we'd ever dreamed of. The ones that turned into our worst nightmare. After today, neither of us will be the same. You can't come back from this. He won't come back from this.

"He's not going on a business trip, is he?" I ask.

"We were supposed to go away to celebrate our engagement. I asked him why we couldn't do that here in town. Invite his friends and family." _My friends and family._ "He said he preferred to just be with me. I guess I know why now."

"So, how'd you find our address?"

"He has an apartment on the other side of town and I'd been to it a couple of times, but I'm awful with directions. I called his office to give me his address because I wanted to surprise him before we left. Told them I had a special delivery for him. They gave me this address." She shook her head. "I knew something was off when I pulled up to this big, beautiful house that I'd never seen before. I even called them back to verify the address."

That was a lot to take in. Husband has an affair. Husband proposes to said woman with the ring you thought was yours. Husband has a completely separate apartment you have no idea about.

"I just can't believe all of this." _Yes, you can._

She glances at the clock. "He's supposed to be at my place soon. I can't go with him. I'm so sick to my stomach about everything." She peels the ring off her finger and sets it on the table. "I can't wear that."

"We need to figure out what we're going to do. We have to confront him. The both of us."

"Right now? I'll vomit all over, Bella. I can't face him. Not yet."

"Okay. We'll wait. Next week. It'll give us time to gather our thoughts." I didn't need that time, but I can see she did. In a way, I feel worse for her than for me. He broke a promise he made to me years ago. For her, he broke a promise that's barely left his lips.

We exchange numbers and plan to call soon. In a sick twisted way, I feel like we're friends now. Banding together against a man who did us wrong. So, so wrong.

After she leaves, I think about packing up all of my things. Going to Alice's. Leaving without a word. But somehow, that doesn't seem like enough. That doesn't hurt him the way it's hurting me. Because I am so utterly hollow right now, that nothing less than tearing him apart seems like enough.

When he walks through the door later that night, he smiles. "Business trip cancelled!" _Lie. _"I'm so happy I get to spend more time with you, baby. I miss you." _Lie._ "I love you." _Lie._

He kisses the top of my head and sets his things down in his study. I swallow down the bile rising in my throat.

"I actually already had plans with Alice." I quickly grab my purse and my keys before I start to cry. I won't let him see that. Then, I walk out the door and leave him alone, like he's done to me so many times. Game over.

* * *

**A/N: They say Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, but what about two women scorned?**

**Thank you for reading, for your reviews, and for recommending this story. I have a hectic couple of weeks at work coming up starting July 22nd, so there is a possibility there will be a slight delay in any updates during that time. If that happens, they will resume more regularly after August 7th. Thanks for your patience!**

**M**


	4. Chapter 4

I drive. Aimlessly. Out of the city limits and into the dark of the night with no regard for direction or purpose. I just have to drive.

I wish it wasn't real. I wish those snapshots in my head weren't so jaded. Her face at my door. My ring on her finger. The way she looked so broken in our home. My life in shambles.

You don't get do-overs in life. I can't hit rewind, I can't re-record my message. I got once chance to be happy and I blew it on that son of a bitch. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.

I'm so wrapped up in my thoughts that I miss my gas light flashing empty. I miss it all the way until my car begins to shudder and slows to a stop on the side of a lonely road.

_Great._

I get out and look each way down the dark road. Not a single soul or light in sight. Inside my purse, I find my cellphone just as dead as my car, but I remember passing a gas station a while back. I guess I can walk. I'll have to.

Once I lock up my car, I start off. Does he even care that I'm gone? Does he even realize? Is he wondering where I am or if I'm safe? Would he even fucking care that I'm out here in the middle of nowhere by myself? The scariest thing is that I don't even know the answer to any of those questions.

For the first hour, it's kind of nice. Even though the last place I want to be is alone with my thoughts, the quiet of the night settles me. Calms my nerves more than I thought possible.

Just when I'm starting to get worried, I hear a car coming up behind me and then headlights flash across my body.

"You okay?" A man calls.

"Fine." I'm not interested in some guy trying to get fresh because I'm some damsel in distress.

"Are you sure? I mean you're walking in the middle of nowhere."

"My car ran out of gas. I'm just walking to the gas station back here. I'll be fine."

"The gas station back here is probably another twenty miles."

_Great. _Again. I didn't realize I'd driven that far.

"Listen," the man continues. "I know you think I'm trying to be some creep and take advantage of you in your bad situation, but I'm just trying to help. If it makes you feel any better, I'm a cop."

I turn and cross my arms. "I didn't know cops drove a...red Camaro." I squint into the driver's seat. The man is fumbling for something in his pocket.

"I'm off duty right now. Here's my badge, I promise I am not a crazy person." He holds up his badge to the window.

"Edward?"

"Do I know you?"

I round the car and slip into the passenger's seat. There he is. Edward Cullen. Right in front of me. Staring at me like I'm the crazy person.

"You really don't remember me?" I ask.

"Did we sleep together?" He asks, studying my face. I doubt he can see me that well anyway.

"No." I sigh. "Go Spartans?"

"Forks' High? No shit." He smiles.

"Shit."

"You're Bella Swan." He shakes his head and starts driving.

"Bella Volturi now." I clear my throat. "How do you remember me?"

"I had a crush on you for three months."

"Just three?" I ask.

"Yeah." His fingers drum to the beat of the song on the radio. "Then you started dating some douchebag football player. I was heartbroken. You broke my heart, Bella Swan."

"Volturi," I correct him. "I didn't know you were interested, Edward Cullen. Must have been that badass routine you brought to school every day."

"I was kind of a loner, wasn't I?"

"Yes."

"So, what have you been up to since high school?" _I married a jackass_. _I let myself become this person. I'm losing everything._ "Go to college, fall in love, all that jazz?"

"Yeah," I say. "All that jazz."

"Good for you." He glances at me and then quickly diverts his eyes to the road.

"What?" I ask.

"Nothing."

"So, what have you been up to since high school, _Officer_?"

"Getting into all kind of trouble."

"Oh, really?"

"Really. Got busted right after graduation for trespassing, breaking and entering. They almost threw the book at me, but I had a cop actually fight for me. Stand up for me. Changed my life. For the better."

"And look at you now." I smile.

"Look at me now." He leans against his door as the lights of the gas station appear over the next hill.

He bought my gas, which I adamantly protested. I ambled around the station while he filled up a spare gas can and chatted with the attendant. I bought a pack of M&M's and a water for the drive back.

The ride back to my car passes in silence. He rolls his window down, letting the cool breeze of the night float through the car. I nibble on my M&M's, offering him one every few minutes. When we finally reach my car, he fills up my tank and makes sure it starts okay.

"I think you're all set." He says, slamming the hood down.

"Thanks. Really. Thank you for stopping. And not being some creeper."

"My mother did warn me about picking up hitchhikers."

"Did I prove her wrong?" I cock my eyebrow.

"That has yet to be determined." He reaches into my candy bag and grabs a few. "Nice seeing you again, Bella Swan."

This time, I don't correct him.

* * *

**A/N: Finally! Here he is! Her knight in shining red Camaro!**

**Hell begins tomorrow morning bright and early at work, so there will be a delay in updates until at least August 8th, when I return to the land of the living. Thanks for your patience and big sloppy hugs to everyone for reading and reviewing. I would also like to say thank you to SwansBookStore for featuring my fic "Secret Life" and to Jaime for making such a beautiful banner to go along with their review. **

**Have a wonderful couple of weeks!**


	5. Chapter 5

The next week, Rosalie texts me asking to meet. Then, I find myself driving to her apartment. I lied to him. I lied to James. Told him I had a doctor's appointment. The funny thing is that he didn't ask what it was for or if I was okay or why it was so strange that I had a doctor's appointment so late in the day. It doesn't even cross his mind.

She lives in luxury community in a smaller city about a half hour north of town. I don't presume to know about her salary, but it seems much nicer than she can afford. I wouldn't be surprised if he was paying for part of her bills.

I pull up and roll down my window for the front gate guard.

"Can I help you?" He asks.

"I'm here to see Rosalie in..." I scour my car for the paper with her address. "214."

"Sign in please." He hands me a sheet and asks for my identification. "Enjoy your evening Ma'am." The gate creaks open and I drive through as he returns to his game show reruns playing on a tiny television inside his hut.

My headlights splash across the polished silver numbers of each apartment until I reach 214. I find an empty parking spot and sit in my car for a few minutes, trying to collect my thoughts. I don't know what I expect from this or expect from her. I know I sure as hell expected a lot more from him.

When I see her pull back the curtains and look outside, I know I have to go in. I slowly get out of my car and twirl my keys in my fingers, a nervous habit, as I approach her door. She beats me there and pulls it open. I can tell she wants to smile, but she doesn't even have the energy to fake it.

"Did you find it okay?" She asks, closing the door behind me.

"Yeah, it's hard to miss."

"You can ask me, it's alright."

I take her up on her offer. "Did he buy this for you?"

"He bought it for us actually. Me and him. I sold my cozy little apartment to come live in this fake place. I can't even stand being here anymore."

I stop when I see a jacket of his slung over a chair just inside. I wasn't prepared for that. Evidence of him in her world. It doesn't look strange or out of place. Like it belongs here. Now more than ever I feel like I'm the outcast.

"This is just unreal," I murmur. The love I once held for my husband is like the sands in an hourglass, quickly falling grain by grain until there is nothing left. That hourglass is moments away from being completely empty.

We walk into the living room and it's noticeably bare. A healthy fire burns in the fireplace in the corner, and all the furniture looks brand new. But there are no personal items. No photos or books or art on the walls.

"I started packing."

Panic sets in. Did she confront him?

"I don't want to be here any longer than I have to. He hasn't been here long enough to notice. I already have a small place lined up right downtown."

"Good." I sigh. "That's good." I never thought about moving out and selling our house, but I can't imagine living there by myself. I don't even care about the money. Sure, having a nice house is great, but it might as well be nothing if there's not enough love to fill the spaces. The more I picture it, I don't even want to go back there tonight. "I can't handle this," I whisper.

"We have to do it soon, Bella. Otherwise, it'll eat us both alive. We deserve better." She shakes her head and leans against the wall. "I know you don't know me and I don't know you and this whole situation is just fucked up. But I know that we deserve better. And he deserves _everything_ that's coming to him."

I try to imagine James losing both of us. Mr. Popularity left in the dust by the women he wronged. People would no doubt sympathize with him. He'll tell more lies. I lose friends and his family that I love dearly. It hurts me to think a woman as lovely as his mother raised such a monster. Nearly kills me to think of it. But I can't live like this anymore.

"Next week. We're supposed to go up to the lake with my sister and her husband." Alice already knows something's up. I can't fake it in front of her. Not now. "We have to do it before then."

I tell her about my meeting with my lawyer tomorrow morning to discuss divorce papers. I can't take a lot of things from the man who has everything, but I can be the one to leave. I can say I don't want him anymore. And I can be the one to throw him out like rotting trash. I can own that.

"Thursday night, then? Your house?" Rosalie cocks her eyebrow, the glow of the fire dancing in her eyes. I see so much more behind her stare than I saw the last time we were together. The sadness is gone. All I see is hate.

"Okay. Thursday night." This will all be over in a week. One more week of pretending to be content. Of sleeping beside that bastard. Of saying "I love you" every morning. Sometimes, I wonder why I don't just leave him now. Pack a bag and take off, leaving no explanation or reason until he receives the divorce papers. But that doesn't give me the satisfaction of seeing his face when we're both there. When he has to stare both of us in the face, his two women who he thought he had so perfectly fooled. It's selfish to admit that I need that, but I do. I think we both do.

I turn to leave, but Rosalie grabs my hand.

"Don't wear it anymore," she says.

"What?"

She looks down at her left hand, where that beautiful emerald ring still sits on her finger. Then, she shakes her head, slowly slips it off, and tosses it into the fire. When she takes a deep breath, I can almost see the stress roll off her. It's just a piece of jewelry, but the fact that it came from him, that it means we're tied to him, belong to him, makes it feel heavy on my own finger.

Without another thought, I pull my wedding ring off my finger and throw it into the flames.

"We'll make it through this, Bella," Rosalie says. "And I promise he'll pay for it." Her lip trembles.

Before either of us cry, I quietly leave and hold my breath all the way to the car. As soon as I'm out of the gates, I start to sob so hard that I can barely see the road. Headlights are nothing more than fuzzy balls of light. Cars whizz by in a deafening hum.

I pull over to the side of the road and rest my head on the steering wheel. My ring finger feels strange. Lighter. Naked. I press my thumb up against the underside and rub back and forth, feeling the indents of the ring left in my skin.

I don't know how long I sit there, but eventually I hear sirens and see the blue and red flashing lights pull up behind me.

"Great." I glance in the rearview mirror and frantically wipe my tears away as the officer steps out of his car and ambles up to my driver's side door.

I roll down my window and wait.

"License and registration, please." He shines a light in my face and laughs. "We've got to stop running into each other like this, Bella Swan."

"Edward?"

He lowers the light and I'm blinded for a few moments before his face comes into view. He shakes his head and rounds the car, opening my side door and sliding in like it's nothing.

"What the hell are you doing?" I ask.

He smirks. "See, I don't think you know how this is supposed to work. I'm supposed to ask the questions."

"Are you supposed to do it from your suspect's passenger seat?"

"I'm unconventional, what can I say?" He laughs. I don't. I can't. "But seriously, what are you doing parked on the side of the road?"

I stare out onto the road, focusing on the cars coming toward us in the opposite lane. "Thinking."

"About what?"

"Life."

"That's pretty heavy stuff for this stretch of highway."

"It's pretty heavy stuff anywhere."

"You okay?" He asks.

"No."

"Want to talk about it?" He leans back in his chair and puts his arm around my shoulders. Even though I barely know him, I feel comfort.

"Not really."

"Ouch." He fakes a wound to his chest.

"It's not you. It's me, Edward. I just..." I stutter. "A lot of things going on."

The radio clipped to his shoulder blares. "Robbery in progress. Newton's again. Suspects on foot, requesting perimeter."

He sighs.

"Duty calls?" I ask.

"Serve and protect, Bella Swan, that's all I'm about." He seems hesitant to leave. "I know you've got your lot of things going on...but you've got to move your vehicle, okay?"

"Okay." I smile.

He starts to get out of my car. "I think we should get together. Talk a little outside of a car. You want to meet me for a beer tomorrow night?"

"I'm married, Edward." I could be attracted to Edward, but even though James is a son of a bitch I refuse to deface marriage like he does. And I'm still married. But not for long.

"Bella, I'm not asking you out on a date. If it makes you feel better, bring your husband along. I'd love to meet him." He nods and slams my door. "Lannister's Bar at 8. See you there." He jogs back to his car and takes off with his lights flashing.

When I get home, James is half asleep in front of the TV, a few empty beer bottles sitting on the table. I don't wake him, I just head upstairs and into the bathroom to get ready for bed. Shortly after, I hear him come up the stairs.

"Hey, baby," he says, yawning. "How was shopping?"

I don't correct him.

"Good." I lean over the sink and splash some water on my face. I turn the water off and grab a towel. He comes over and kisses the top of my head.

"Where's your ring?" He grabs my left hand and stares at the vacant space.

I take a deep breath. "Took it in to get it cleaned. That's all."

We both brush our teeth and crawl into bed. I find myself migrating to the furthest side of the bed in attempt to get away from him.

My thoughts drift to Edward and his proposal. And how nice it was to see him again. I start to think that maybe after this is all over, I can start again. Find someone new, find myself again. Even if it isn't Edward, it could be someone else. All I know is, I feel better when Edward's around. So, I turn my head toward my husband and smile.

"You wanna go out tomorrow night?"

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for your patience waiting for this update. I'm still not out of busy time at work, but I had a little time today so I was able to get this finished up for you :)**


	6. Chapter 6

"So, who is this you're meeting tonight?" James asks, pulling his tie tight. I'd love nothing more than to strangle him with it. He claims he's got a busy night at work and tonight, I actually believe him for once. I'm kind of glad he isn't coming, I need a night off from the overwhelming hate I feel every time he's next to me.

"A friend from high school." I pull my jeans up and button them. "I'll call myself a taxi."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'll drop you off on the way to the office." He scrambles for his briefcase, and then his keys, and we're out the door.

"This case is just insane," he rambles on about his latest job and I zone out, watching the lights of the city come into view ahead of us. "Don't you think?"

"Uh huh." I nod, unsure of what he's asking me. "You can drop me off here," I say, as soon as I see the sign for Lannister's. He pulls over to the curb and reaches in his pocket for his wallet.

"Here's a couple of rounds on me for you two. Get some girl drinks or something." James hands me some cash. Normally, I would have felt the need to correct him, but at this point I don't feel like I owe him anything. I take the money and get out of the car, only to find Edward just walking up.

"Hey, Isabella Swan." He smiles, flipping his faded baseball cap backwards.

"Hey, Edward Cullen." I stick my hands in my pockets and hope that James just drives away. Most of the time he's too absorbed in his own world to see mine, but of course tonight is different. I hear his car door slam and in an instant he's right beside me.

"Is there a problem?" He asks, eying Edward.

"Not at all," Edward says, not missing a beat. He sticks his hand out in greeting. "I'm Edward Cullen. You must be the husband?"

James reluctantly shakes his hand and glares at me out of the corner of his eye. "This is your friend from high school?"

"Yes."

"I promise I'll take good care of her, Mr. Volturi," Edward jokes.

"He's cop," I brag. _Why am I bragging?_

"Is that right?"

"Sorry you can't join us," Edward says. And he's genuine about it because everything about Edward is genuine. He doesn't know any better.

"I've got work..." James nods and leans down to kiss me. I'm too shocked to pull back.

Then, we all just linger there, waiting for him to leave so we can go inside.

"Don't you need to get going?" I ask, impatient.

"Yeah, yeah." James rounds the car, keeping his eyes on us the entire time. "You guys, uh, have fun." He pulls out his phone as soon as he's inside the car and I finally feel like we can go inside.

"After you," Edward says, gesturing toward the door.

The bouncer at the front checks both of our IDs and allows us inside. The bar is crowded, packed with people from back to front. Edward spots a group leaving a table and snatches it quickly before anyone else can.

"You sit, I'll get some drinks. What can I get you?" He asks.

"A beer is fine."

God, this feels good. Just to get out. To break free from the routine of loneliness and pain. To feel normal again.

I watch Edward walk back from the bar with two beers in hand. So do the few women standing around our table.

"Lucky you," one of them says.

"Oh we're not..." I shake my head.

"Too bad." She smiles and walks away.

"One beer," Edward says, sliding my beer across the table. "So, he seems...nice. Do you guys have any kids?"

"No." _Ouch. That one hurt. _"You?"

"Nope. No wife, no girlfriend, no kids. Just a trusty dog that keeps me warm every night." He smirks and pulls out his phone. "This is Remy." He scrolls through a few adorable pictures of a young Husky curled up next to him. "Only lady in my life...for now, anyway."

We talk non-stop for nearly a half hour like best friends. Thankfully, he doesn't ask about James and for that half hour, I don't have to think about him at all. And I don't.

"How's your cousin doing?" I ask. "Didn't he get that football scholarship to some big school out east?"

He takes a sip of his beer. "He did. And two years into school, he tore up his knee and it was over. He's a good guy, I feel bad for him. He's coaching high school right now, staying as close to the game as he can."

"That's too bad. You guys talk much?" Edward and Emmett didn't seem too close in high school. Emmett and his parents are the reason Edward even moved to Forks. From what I remember, Edward's parents died in a freak car accident and even though his mom and her sister weren't close, she took Edward in until he was done with high school.

"Sometimes. We get a long a lot better when we're not under the same roof." He laughs. "How about you? How's Alice?"

I cock my eyebrow. "You actually remember her name?"

"I know, I know. Ruins my loner reputation that I remember the head cheerleader's name." He leans in towards me and winks.

"She's good." I smile. "You know something funny, we actually saw you-"

I'm interrupted by the last person I want to see right now.

"So, good news," James says, throwing his jacket over the chair. "I got off work early!" He puts his arm around my shoulder and smiles, his eyes bright and wild. "Next round is on me." He heads to the bar before me or Edward can get another word in.

I should have known. God forbid I have a good time without him. He couldn't have that. He has to own my happiness, keep it in a cage like an animal. And just when I feel like it's about to break free, he imprisons it again.

James returns with three more beers and begins to tell us about the case he just happened to get out of last minute. I start to wonder if Edward were Alice whether or not he would have gotten out of it. Something in my gut tells me no. Definitely no.

"You play?" James asks Edward, nodding to the pool table. Edward shrugs.

"A little."

"Come on."

"No, it's okay. I'll pass." Edward shakes his head.

"Aw, come on." James pleads. There's something dark in his voice. Not lighthearted teasing. More like a threat, like storm clouds rolling in on the horizon. "We'll put a wager on it."

Edward stares at him with disbelief. "Alright, fine." He stands and grabs a cue. "I'll rack, you can break."

James laughs, throwing his head back. He seems too drunk after one beer. I wonder if he had something before he showed up.

After James breaks, Edward easily shoots in three balls one after the other.

"Impressive," James says. Edward stands silent behind the table, rolling the cue in his hands. His eyes dart to me every once in awhile, never staying too long or uttering a single word. James circles the table several times before sinking one ball in, missing the next horribly.

"Aren't you going to cheer for me, baby?" He practically shouts in my ear as he wraps his arm around my waist and plants a disgusting kiss on my cheek.

"You're drunk," I whisper, tears stinging between my eyes. Everyone's watching us.

"Isn't that the point of going out and having fun? Don't be such a buzzkill."

Edward leans down and slides the cue between his fingers, sinking one more ball. James's game continues to go downhill and Edward remains constantly calm, making at least one ball each turn until he's down to the eight ball.

"Damn it!" James screams. "I'm losing to a big, bad cop, everyone! He was nice enough to ask my wife to come out tonight, now he's going to beat me in pool." He cackles, downing the last of his beer.

"I think you're done," I say, pulling the mug away from him.

He glares at me, suddenly angry. "I'm done when I say I'm done."

"You never told me the stakes," Edward says, pulling James's attention away from me.

"The stakes?"

"Of the wager. Since I am about to pocket this eight ball, I guess I should know what I'm winning." Edward stopped drinking after his first beer, and I see the lighthearted façade breaking down. He's annoyed with James, and he's probably annoyed with me. Guilt by association right? This is a complete disaster.

"Okay, Cullen, is it?" James saunters around the table, dragging his cue behind him. "Why don't we wager what you obviously wanted from the start?" His eyes circle to me. "You think I don't know what this was? I see right through you, asshole."

"You're sorely mistaken, friend." Edward sighs.

"Am I?" James taunts. "Miss the shot then."

Edward shakes his head, leans down, and quickly shoots, sending the eight ball square into the pocket. "I'm done with this." He reaches into his wallet and gives James some cash. "Take your wife home."

Edward brushes past me. "See ya, Bella." He grabs his coat and in an instant he's gone.

I want nothing more than to leave with him, but I don't. Instead, I load my drunk, miserable excuse for a husband into a cab and we ride home, a red Camaro following us the entire way home. James is half asleep by the time we get home. I help him upstairs and into bed, then I go back down to sleep on the couch. As I go to shut the curtains, I see the Camaro parked across the street and can barely make out Edward's face in the shadows. There are so many things I want to say to him. Like I'm sorry. Like I hate my life. Like...wait for me. Just a few more days and I'll be free. I need to be free.

* * *

**A/N: Sincere apologies for taking so long with this update. Life got in the way and I was hoping to never go that long between updates. Hoping I can get back on track asap :)**

**If you're sick of James...okay who isn't sick of James, just know the next chapter goes out with a bang! *hint, hint***

**Thank you all for reading and I hope everyone has a great weekend!**


	7. Chapter 7

It takes me a few days to recover from the embarrassment. In those days, I speak to James when only necessary, and answer his questions with a simple yes or no if I bother to respond at all. He knows I'm upset and he tries to apologize in every way imaginable except for saying the words "I'm sorry." Not that it matters anyway. It wouldn't change anything. I don't think anything can do that.

So, on Thursday morning, after I've called a couple of precincts looking for him, I walk into the one on the other side of town looking for Edward. I'm nervous about tonight, about the confrontation with James, but I figure if I can apologize and make my peace with Edward, it will calm my nerves a little bit.

A man sitting at the front desk looks up as soon as I open the door.

"Can I help you?" He asks.

"Yes, I'm looking for Officer Cullen."

"Can I tell him your name?"

I pause. "Bella Swan."

"Just a sec." He picks up the phone and dials a few numbers. "Hey, Cullen, there's a lady up here asking for you. Says her name is Bella Swan...Alright." He hangs up. "Third desk on the left." He points back to a door and smiles.

I follow his directions and find a large room lined with desks on either side. I find Edward's desk easily, and he's sitting with his back to me scribbling on some paperwork.

"Hi, Bella Swan," he says, never looking up from his desk. I stand there for a few moments, wanting to say so much, but my lips won't move. He finally looks up, leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. "You know the traditional response is 'Hello, Edward' or if you're feeling a little casual 'What up'."

I smile. "What up?"

"Not too much, you know. Crime stopping and all that." He bites his lip and rocks back in his chair. "What can I do for you?"

"I just, uh, wanted to apologize for the other night. It was just awful. Awful." I shake my head, trying to erase the memories. "I'm so sorry."

"He always like that?" He asks.

"No." _He's worse_.

"You wouldn't lie to me now, would you, Bella Swan?" He cocks his eyebrow and I have a feeling no matter what I tell him, he knows there's more to the story.

"Of course not."

He leans forward and looks down at his desk, doing anything to avoid eye contact. "He's never hurt you physically, has he?"

"No," I say, with confidence. Despite the emotional damage my husband has inflicted on me, he's never hit me.

"I'm sorry to ask, I just deal with a lot of guys with that type of hot-tempered attitude. It seems to be a trend."

"I understand." I nod. "So, friends?" I offer my hand as a peace-offering and he takes it reluctantly.

"I don't want to get in the middle of your marriage, Bella. It wasn't ever my intent. I mean, yeah, you're smoking hot and everything, and maybe if I was the same me I was back in high school, I wouldn't care. But I care now. And that's not me." He smiles. "So just, call me if you ever need anything, okay?"

My heart drops. "I will." I start to leave. "Oh. I forgot." I reach into my purse and pull out a bag of M&Ms.

"Are you trying to bribe a police officer?" He asks.

"Is it working?"

He takes a deep breath. "I'll see you around, Bella Swan."

After I leave, I get a call from Rosalie telling me she'll be at my house around eight. I tell her about the extra key for the back door so she can let herself in.

I spend the rest of the day trying to relax. I take a long bath, read a book, and have a glass of wine before he's supposed to be home. Avoid my cellphone. I'm surprised when I see him pull in a little earlier than expected, just a little before 7:30.

I'm sitting in silence in the living room, my robe wrapped tightly around my body as I warm myself in front of the fireplace. My second glass of wine rests in my hand.

"I want a divorce," I practice over and over again, hoping the rehearsal will make it easier to say when the time comes.

It scares me when he bursts into the house, panting with a frantic look in his eye. When his gaze lands on me, he breathes a sigh of relief.

"You weren't answering your phone," he says.

"Is that an emergency?" I say.

"Today it is." He drops his briefcase, which makes a loud clatter noise against the floor. When he buries his face in his hands, I know something is very wrong. The part of me, the smallest, deepest part of me, that still cares for the man he used to be, hurts for him.

"What happened?" I ask, standing. He rushes over to me and wraps me up in his arms so tight like he's afraid I might disappear. If he only knew what was about to happen.

"I got a call from someone. They threatened me, they threatened you, my entire life."

"Who was it? A client?"

"I don't know. They disguised their voice. They said the most...awful things, Bella. I was terrified."

"Well, I'm fine."

He releases me. "God, I hope they don't take me off this case because of it."

That small piece of my heart, the part that still loves him, dies with that statement. He works for some pretty scary people sometimes and the thing he's most concerned about when they threaten his family is staying on the case.

"Yeah," I mumble.

He heads to the kitchen and warms up some food while I linger in the doorway, sipping my wine. This is it. Our last night like this. Sure, they'll still be hard nights after this is over. There will be times when I'm lonely for someone, but I know now that I'd rather be lonely without him than barely alive with him. And I'm ready to let go.

"James," I start.

"You know, I can't believe someone had the balls to call me like that. I've received a note or two, but nothing like this." He shoves the food into his mouth.

"James," I say again. "I have to tell you something."

He stops. "You're pregnant?"

I think back to all the times I wanted to say those words to him. Now, my greatest joy is that I never got to say them. Not to him. He doesn't deserve to hear them from me.

"No." I force myself to look him in the eye. "I want a divorce."

He doesn't say anything. He doesn't move. He doesn't breathe.

"Did you hear me? I want a divorce." I clear my throat as the tears sting my eyes. I try to hold them in. Stay calm and strong, but this is huge for me. They're not sad tears. They're tears of joy.

"I heard you." He stands and walks to me, standing toe to toe. He's trying to intimidate me, scare me into submission. But I won't. I can't. "Let's go to bed. We'll talk about this tomorrow." He grabs my wrist and tries to pull me toward the stairs.

"No!" I pull it away. "We're not talking about this tomorrow. We're talking about it now. And there is no discussion, James. I'm done. I'm leaving you. And I want a divorce."

He marches toward me and I stumble back into the cabinets, startled by his combative stance.

"You do not get to decide this, Bella. I say when we're done. Not you. And I still want you, so no."

"She said she's done, asshole," Rosalie says, stepping into the kitchen. "And so am I."

For the first time since I've known him, James looks flustered.

"What are you doing here?" He asks Rosalie, stuttering the entire time. He steps back from me, standing almost exactly halfway between me and her.

"Making you pay for what you did to us."

The world starts to move a little slower. I drop my wine glass when I see her raise the gun. It shatters on the floor at my feet, spilling red wine all over. Before I can scream, I hear a loud bang. James shutters, clutching his chest. He turns toward me, his face a twisted expression.

The blood begins to seep out, staining his shirt in a growing pool.

"Bella?" He mumbles. He sinks to his knees and I fall with him, the shards of glass slicing into my legs.

"Rosalie!" I gasp. "Get me a towel!" I put my hands over his wound, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. Rosalie doesn't move. "Rosalie!"

"He took part of my life that I can never get back, Bella," she cries. "I don't owe him any of his."

"He's going to die!" I don't want this. I don't want any of this. It wasn't part of the plan. Now, I can never be free.

"He can't hurt us anymore! Isn't that what you wanted?"

I can't see through the tears. My entire body is numb except for my hands. There, I can feel the hot blood flowing from his chest.

"Bella, listen to me," Rosalie says. Her voice sounds far away, like I'm floating in water. This can't be happening. "The police will be here soon. You're going to tell them someone broke in. You're going to tell them about that phone call he got at work today. And you're going to be fine."

My life is over. They'll find out she did this. They'll tie her to me and think I was involved. Now, I am involved. They wouldn't be wrong. I'm involved in my husband's murder. And in the chaos of it all, my survival instincts kick in.

"You have to shoot me," I say. "In the arm, in the leg, somewhere."

"What?"

I sniffle. "I'll tell them he dove in front of me. To protect me. It'll look better if I have a wound." I can't believe the words coming out of my mouth. That I'm actually going through with this, but I don't have another choice. I feel like I'm at the bottom of a deep well, struggling to stay afloat, keeping my eye on that sunlight up at the top. That sunlight grows fainter and fainter, like I'm falling deeper and deeper into the ground. This is my only salvation.

I look down at James. There is no more blood flowing from his chest. His eyes are wide open, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

"Do it, Rose. Then leave. Get rid of the gun. Don't let anyone see you."

She takes a few steps forward and raises the gun toward my leg. I hold my breath as she pulls the trigger. I feel nothing. Then the most intense sting begins to radiate from my calf.

"I'm so sorry, Bella," Rosalie says.

"Just go," I cry. "Go!"

I cling to James' body as my leg starts to bleed out onto the floor, mixing with his blood and the wine.

I count to pass the time, knowing the police would be here soon. Our neighbors would have hurt the gun shots. They would have called. But as time passes, I feel my body growing weak. I don't hear sirens. I can't reach my phone. And I start to wonder if I made a horrible mistake.

There's more of my blood than I anticipated.I thought they'd be here by now. I reach for a towel and press it against my leg before I slump back against the oven, my limbs feeling numb and heavy as concrete. My eyes fight to stay open, fluttering every few seconds, willing themselves closed.

Only then do I hear the sirens. Far off in the distance. Then, in a flurry of commotion, the police break into my back door and flood into the kitchen.

"Need a bus at 2900 Avalanche Drive. We've got a female GSW to the leg, male GSW to the chest." He reaches down and checks James' pulse. "Scratch that. We've got a DB."

My leg is in so much pain that I can't even cry. My jaw clenches so tight that I think I'm going to break my own teeth.

I wonder if Rosalie got away. I wonder if anyone saw her. I pray that she slid away into the night, undetected.

The paramedics roll a stretcher in and try to ask me questions. My brain is foggy and I don't understand any of them. I try to speak, but I can't. It all comes out in mumbles and jumbles of attempted words.

"We're going to lift you onto this board, okay?" One of them says. My sight goes in and out of focus, but I vaguely register them carrying me to the stretcher and strapping me in. As they roll me out, I look back at James' body. And then I'm gone. Out the back door, past the deck we re-stained this past summer. Past the flowers that I planted in the spring and over the handprints in the concrete that we did when we first bought the house.

The front of my house is mess of blue and red lights, cop cars blocking the road. My neighbors huddle around, their faces a mix of horror and curiosity.

I look up to the sky to avoid their staring. The night is dark and cloudless, the stars bright as ever, even with the lights of the city in the distance.

"Let me through!" Someone screams.

"Your shift is over, Cullen," one of the cops say.

"I don't care!"

Just before they lift me into the ambulance, Edward appears at my side, his face a flurry of panic. "Hey, Bella Swan," he says, softly.

"Hi, Edward Cullen."

He takes my hand and hops into the back of the ambulance as they load me in. "Let's get you fixed up, okay. Everything's going to be alright."

I want to believe him so badly, but I know the truth. Things will never be alright again. Ever.

* * *

**A/N: O.O**

**Just a short PSA, I don't condone murder in any circumstance. But I can't say I'm upset he's gone. **

**Now the big question, how is this going to affect her relationship with Edward?!**

**Big thank you to Lisa for her consultation :)**


	8. Chapter 8

My husband died three days ago.

Thankfully, the gunshot wound in my leg isn't serious. They're releasing me from the hospital today. "She needs to attend a funeral," the nurses say. Planning to memorialize him was the last thing I want to do. I didn't want him to die. I just wanted to live.

"Honey, here are your discharge papers," my mother says, rushing in with the nurse. She flew in the morning after it happened and hasn't left my side since. Neither has Alice. I'd really just like a few moments to myself where James' blood isn't soaking into my clothes.

"How are you doing? Do you need any meds? Are you comfortable?" Mom asks.

"Let her breathe a little, Mom," Alice says, flipping through her magazine.

"She is my child, Alice. And so you are you, so you best watch your mouth," Mom says.

"I'm fine, Mom." I lift myself up in the bed and take a glance through the papers the nurse gives me.

They all watch while I read with the look. The sympathy. The pity. I don't want any of it, but I can't let them know that. As much as I hate it, I need to play the part of the grieving wife.

The police took my clothes and tested my hands for gunshot residue "just to cover their bases." It came back negative of course. I didn't fire a gun, but I won't say I'm not guilty.

"These just arrived for you," one of the nurses says, bringing in a beautiful, but simple flower arrangement. My mother accepts them.

"No card?" Mom says. "Do you know who they'd be from?"

I shake my head. "Do you know what delivery service dropped them off? Maybe we can call?"

"It wasn't a delivery service. It was a young man. Said he needed to leave them for you," the nurse says. She leaves and returns shortly with a wheelchair. "You're all set, Mrs. Volturi."

Mom and Alice glance toward me with pained expressions. Like those words should hurt me. But, they don't. Not even his name can weight me down.

They all help me over to the wheelchair. My leg will be fine soon, but for the time being, I'm supposed to keep as much weight off it as possible. Mom will probably insist on staying with me for a few days, even though I don't need it. I figure after the funeral tomorrow, she'll back off a little. At least, I hope.

All of the nurses help carry my things and all of my flowers down to the car, where my dad is waiting for me. His approach has been a little less hands on with my recovery. I think it's hard for him to see me like this and he doesn't quite know how to handle it. I wish I could tell him everything. That I'm okay, hopefully. But even if he wasn't a retired cop, I can't do that. I can't tell anyone.

"Hey, baby," Dad says, lifting me from the chair into the front seat.

"Hi, Dad."

"Charlie, open the back!" Mom yells from behind the car. He pops the trunk and she loads everything inside before hopping in the back with Alice.

The car ride home is uncomfortable silence. No one knows what to say now that we're completely alone. Our broken, little family.

"So, uh, I'm going to pick Phil up from the airport after I drop you guys off," Dad says. Most people think my parents' relationship is strange, but I never thought that. They fell out of love with each other, but that doesn't mean they hate each other. Mom remarried just before I graduated high school and neither of them have ever been happier.

"Thank you, Charlie," Mom says. "Did you pick up your suit from the drycleaners?"

"Already hanging in my closet," he says.

"Honey." Mom leans forward and touches my shoulder. "Are you sure you want to go back to that house? I mean we can find you a nice hotel or rent you an apartment. I just don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

"Mom, I'm fine. I want to be in my house." I see where she's coming from. Most normal people wouldn't want to go back to the house where their husband was murdered. He controlled my entire life before he died, I refuse to let him control it after. And I want to go home. He was barely there anyway. It's not like I'm going to have a lot of happy memories to contend with.

There's a patrol car sitting out in front of my house. Precautionary is what the detective working my case called it. For all they know, James has a lot of enemies and one put a bullet through him. They could be coming after me next.

"I picked out a nice dress for you, Bella. For tomorrow," Alice says, smiling. Not too much though. She hated James more than anyone, but when you think your sister is heartbroken, you're heartbroken too.

Dad parks in the driveway and we're met by the police officer assigned to this shift. She tells me the details of their protection operation, that I shouldn't be alarmed if I see a car outside.

Once I'm inside, I see not much has changed since I left. Dad installed a new security system and briefs me on the ins and outs while Mom and Alice bring in my things.

I nod and hobble over to the couch. Despite sleeping for the better part of the last few days, I'm exhausted. My leg hurts from all the activity, so I prop it up on a pillow and close my eyes.

"Honey, do you need anything?" Mom asks again. I pretend to be asleep and I feel bad about it, but I need to just not talk. I need to sit. I need to process. I need to be alone.

Eventually, I do fall asleep, and when I wake up, it's hours later and I'm in my own bed. Dad must have carried me up.

It's dark outside my window, and when I see the time on the clock, I'm amazed I slept so long. It's nearly 2 am. The TV is on downstairs and I can only imagine Alice curled up on the couch, asleep with Law and Order reruns on the screen. Mom probably went to the hotel to see Phil. Dad's at home. I'm glad Alice is the one that stayed, as bad as that sounds. She'll give me the space I need.

The spot beside me on the bed is empty, but it's nothing new. This time, it feels different. More permanent, more real. Colder than ever. I don't wish he was here, but for the first time since it happened, I'm truly alone. Now that the adrenaline and drugs have worn off, I feel it. The weight of the whole thing. I helped kill my husband. I am no better than him.

The fear comes creeping up my throat, gripping it like an icy vice. It's like I can see myself slipping, falling into a black hole that I can never escape. I can't breathe. James is dead. Rosalie killed him. And I know everything.

Why didn't I stop her? Or tell someone. I helped her cover it up. I wanted to be free from him, but not like this. That moment, that one choice is going to ruin the rest of my life whether I confess or not. I'll carry that around. I'll know it in my heart.

A tear slips down my cheek. I will never be free.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading! I know this chapter didn't have as much action going on as the last one, but it's just as important to see Bella's internal struggle between relief that he's gone and the gravity of the situation. Part of her wants to be okay with what happened, but the other part just can't be. Funeral will be coming up next.**

**And it is totally okay to have different feelings on Bella's situation. I know some of you are supportive and others feel she still deserves to be punished, and that's expected. No need to hide behind guest reviews because you have differing opinions. I won't bite :)**

**Also, big thank you to Lisa for her help with some medical questions! See you guys soon!**


	9. Chapter 9

I wake early the next morning and just lay in bed until the real world comes and finds me.

My mother knocks softly on my door and peeks her head in. "It's almost time, Bella. You should probably start getting ready?"

"Okay." That's all I can muster.

Even after I fell asleep again, my brain didn't shut off. I saw him in my dreams, haunting me. His eyes staring straight up at the ceiling, dead and lifeless. That image never goes away.

I think about turning myself in, confessing everything that happened that night. Maybe go to Edward. He would help me. I know he would.

I'm not saying I don't deserve to be punished. I deserve it. I lied. I did so many horrible things. But I don't want to be condemned to suffer for the rest of my life.

Would everyone understand? Would my family and friends hate me for what I'd done? The answers to those questions scare the hell out of me. Telling the truth could force me to lose everything and everyone I hold dear.

I hobble over to the shower and do my best with my leg. Alice comes in and helps me balance a little while I wash my hair.

I put on the dress my mother picked out and attempt to put on some makeup. I don't know if I'm supposed to cry today. I wear waterproof just in case.

When I'm finished, I sit on my bed and let my hair air dry until Mom comes to get me.

"Ready?" She asks.

"Yes."

We've hired a limo to carry the family to the cemetery. His small family will be in another. He was never close with his parents and I can only count the number of times I've met them on one hand. They didn't even visit me at the hospital.

We all load into the back. They let me in last so I can sit right by the door and don't have too much trouble getting in and out with my leg.

The ride is completely silent, except for the roar of the engine and the radio's soft music floating through back of the limo. "Criminal" by Fiona Apple. Figures.

I start to sweat, my palms clammy and hot.

"You okay?" Alice says, grabbing one of them.

"Yeah."

When we get to the cemetery, it's packed with a sea of black suits. His colleagues, past clients. Small group of family. No real friends, which doesn't surprise me. He was too selfish to know how to have a healthy relationship with anyone.

There is one patrol car and two officers on the outer edge of the service, keeping an eye on things. I'm disappointed when I see neither of them is Edward.

I expect everyone to watch me as I make my way to the front with my parents, but they don't. James attracts people like himself, so I should have known. Not that I'm looking for their pity, but it just shows the type of person he is. The type of people they are. And the type of person I can never be. I care too much to be like them.

"Please be seated," the minister begins. I drowned out his words as I lower myself into a chair in the front. The casket is in front of me and I know he's in there. A simple arrangement of white flowers sits on top.

The only thing I register is my mother leaning over and grabbing my hand. The next thing I know, she's pulling me up out of my chair. The minister shakes my hand and offers his condolences.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see bleach blonde hair against the sea of black. Rosalie blends in well with the crowd otherwise. Her eyes are hidden behind large sunglasses, her expression vacant. She passes by the casket with the others, and sets a single red rose on the top. She looks my way for the briefest moment and I swear I see a small smirk on her lips. Like she's saying "Look what I did." I wish I had the courage to be that strong. No. No, I don't. I don't ever want to think this was okay. Ever.

The crowd begins to clear and the two officers on duty step towards me.

"Sorry to interrupt, ma'am." One tips his hat. "I just wanted to let you know that we'll be following you back to the house and taking up our surveillance from there. Do you notice anyone you don't know here at the service?"

"I barely know anyone. So, yeah. There's a lot of people. James wasn't very good at introducing me to many of the people he worked with."

"Let us know if you notice anything suspicious. Anything that feels off."

My entire life feels off.

"Is Officer Cullen on my watch at all today?" I ask.

The officer shakes his head. "He's off duty today."

"Oh. Okay, thank you." I return to my family as the crowd clears. Their monotone voices echo how sorry they are over and over, but there's no feeling behind it. They know how much of a son of a bitch he was just as well as I do. But we're all playing our part I guess.

Up on the hill, behind the casket, through the few people left, I see a man standing in the shadow of a tree. His suit almost looks black until the sun breaks through the leaves and catches it. It's the darkest navy I've ever seen. Even behind his sunglasses, I know exactly who it is.

He turns to leave and I rush toward him as quickly as I'm able to. Mom starts to come after me, but Alice holds her back.

"Edward!" I call.

He stops and turns back.

"You're supposed to stay off that leg," he says.

"Well, stop walking away from me and maybe I will."

We stand in silence for a few moments.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Bella," he says.

"Thank you." I pause. "And thank you for the flowers." I'd had a growing suspicion they were from him. I don't know many other young men who would be kind enough to do that.

"I felt weird visiting you, with your family there and everything. I hope it didn't make you uncomfortable, I wanted to wish you well." He shifts nervously and glances over my shoulder at the small gathering. "Sorry to pull you away, I just wanted to pay my respects."

Edward was just what I needed right now. A breath of fresh air. A lightness in the heavy atmosphere. I don't even question why or how, but I just know he makes me feel better.

"Will you help me get back?" I ask, nodding toward my leg. "Come meet my family."

He contemplates, but I know he'll give in. He's too much of a good man to resist helping me.

I throw my hand on his shoulder and he wraps his arms around my waist. We make our way down the hill and he's so strong that he nearly lifts me off the ground so that my feet barely brush the grass.

"You're like Superman," I say softly. He smiles.

"Hi, Edward," Alice says once we're back with the group.

"Alice. Good to see you. Wish it were under better circumstances," Edward says.

"Mom, Dad. This is Edward. He's the one who rode with me to the hospital." I wonder if Dad remembers Edward from high school. He did say he was quite a troublemaker back then.

"You're Carlisle's kid, right?" Dad says, shaking Edward's hand.

"When he claims me." Edward shrugs.

"He claims you quite often around town. He's very proud."

"Thank you for staying with Bella until Alice could get there," Mom says, kissing Edward on the cheek.

"It was no trouble at all, ma'am," Edward says.

"Please, call me Renee." Mom smiles. "Will you join us for lunch back at the house?"

"Oh, no. Thank you. I should be going." He says goodbye to everyone, then leans down to kiss my cheek. "Call me if you need anything," he whispers. I nod. And then he's gone again.

"Such a nice young man," Mom comments.

"He is." I nod.

"How are you doing, honey?" She asks.

"I'm fine, I'm just tired."

We linger at the casket a few more minutes to say our goodbyes, and then leave. My goodbye was exactly what it would have been if he were alive. Short. To the point. No tears. No emotions. Perhaps, there should have been, but no one else would notice. On the surface, I'm nothing more than a grieving widow who can't process the fact that her husband is dead. Underneath it all, I'm just trying to figure out the best way to move on with my life. A new start without him. With a secret that could ruin everything.

Back at the house, Mom has lunch ready for us and James' family. They keep to themselves mostly, no matter how much Mom tries to include them. After a grueling fifteen minutes of watching them try to mingle, I take my food up to the bedroom and put on some sweatpants.

There's a knock on the door moments later and I'm surprised when James' brother, Riley, pokes his head inside.

"I'm heading out," he says.

"Okay." I take a bite of my food. What do I say?

"Do the police have any leads yet?" He asks.

"No. Not that they've told me."

He lingers. "You know I'm not stupid. I know my brother made a lot of mistakes. With his work. With his life. With you. It wouldn't surprise me if one of those mistakes came back to bite him in the ass." He stares at me like he's waiting for me to tell him something. "I just can't get over the fact that there was no sign of a break in. He must have known the person who killed him."

"I don't know, Ry. You know almost everyone knew where our spare key was. It could have been anybody." I try to keep my voice steady, but I'm worried he could hear my tone waver.

He nods. "You gonna keep the house?"

"I don't know."

"It's an awful lot of space for you alone. Call me if you want to list it."

"I will."

A normal person wouldn't want to profit off his brother's murder, yet here he is trying to get me to list my house with him. But he does have a point. Maybe it's the only way he knows to be nice. His closest form of sympathy. After all, the Volturis aren't known for their kindness.

After he leaves, I roll over and will myself to sleep, wishing I could wake up in another place, another time. Wishing for another life. Because I sure as Hell don't want this one anymore.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed the funeral...wait...that's morbid. You know what I mean.**

**Thank you for reading and reviewing and recommending this story! I love you all. Just as another quick reminder, if you'd like to follow any news about my original fiction, you can follow my blog at www. wordpress amandaleighbooks or "Like" me on Facebook at Amanda Leigh, Author. :)**


	10. Chapter 10

Imagine a tiny creature, a monster gnawing inside you. Crawling and scratching your heart until it's nothing but a black hole beneath your ribs. That's how I feel. Except instead of a monster, it's guilt eating me alive.

I'm not sleeping. Not answering calls from friends or family. I spend countless hours pacing my bedroom floor. My mail is piling up at my front door and the house is a complete mess. I've never been more consumed by something before in my life. I can't see past it or through it, like a never ending fog in my brain.

Exactly a month after his funeral, I reach my breaking point. It's almost six in the morning and I've been up all night. I dial Rosalie on the phone, but she doesn't answer. She never answers. I've tried to call her so many times to talk about what happened, to come up with a plan, to get her to confess. I told her I'd go with her. I'd tell her we'll be honest about what happened. How he betrayed us. How it was a moment of passion that she wishes she could take back. I wish I could take it back.

But she never calls me back. So, I decide to do it myself because I can't do this anymore.

I take a long, hot bath to try and relax and then I get dressed and drive to the police station. Instead of going right inside, I sit in my car and watch the people go in and out, passing by on sidewalks, on the way to wherever it is they need to go.

My phone finally rings. I pick up without saying a word.

"Bella?" Rosalie says. "What are you doing?"

"Doing what we should have done all along."

"Don't. Bella. They won't believe us." I hear the panic in her voice. "They'll throw the book at us. Never stop punishing us."

"It can't be as bad as me punishing myself. I can't do this anymore, Rosalie." I start to cry. "I can't."

"You have to. You walk in that door, you're going to ruin our lives." She lowers her voice. "You do this and I'll tell them it was all you. You hear me?"

"Goodbye, Rosalie." I close my eyes and hang up the phone as the tears stream down my face. I look back outside and my breath catches in my throat. Edward is walking into the station.

_Oh, God. _I was ready to tell my story...to everyone but him. I can't see the disappointment in his eyes when he hears the truth. Or my family. What about my family? Will they even love me after they hear what I've done? _No_. I have to leave. I can't do this.

I shift the car into gear and start to drive away, but he turns toward the road, probably because in my haste, my tires squeal.

"Please, don't see me," I whisper.

He cocks his head to the side and starts to wave, an expression of surprise and confusion on his face. Definitely saw me.

"Shit."

When I get home, I bury myself in a mountain of blankets and wish today had never happened. I lay there for hours, hiding from the world. Unfortunately, the world refuses to stay away.

The first time the doorbell rings, I refuse to answer it. By the fifth time, I'm ready to break it so it won't bother me anymore.

I shuffle to the door, pulling a line of blankets behind me. As soon as I pull it open, my heart drops, and I shut it once more.

"Bella Swan," Edward says, knocking. "I saw you stalking me this morning. If you wanted to see me, all you had to do was ask." I could practically see his smile through the door. "I'm not leaving until you let me in."

I give in and open the door.

He's standing there, all my mail piled in his hands. "You left your mail on your porch."

"Thanks."

"Can I come in?" He asks, peering over my head.

"The house is kind of a mess right now."

He leans down and winces. "You have a Cheeto in your hair. No offense, but I think you're a bit of a mess right now." He holds his hands up. "No judging of course. Everyone's got their way of grieving, but we're starting to get complaints of a horrid smell coming from your house."

"No, you're not. Liar!" I punch him in the shoulder and laugh. Wow, I forgot what that feels like.

"Now, you've just assaulted a police officer."

"Are you going to arrest me?" I ask.

"Not today." He bites his lip. "Seriously though, are you okay? I called your sister. She said you've been acting like a hermit."

"My husband died. I think I'm allowed." I don't add the part about me being involved. About the endless guilt. About the invisible thousand pound weight bearing down on me.

"You'll feel better if you get out of the house."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah. I just got off work. Go for a run with me."

"Now?"

"No, next Tuesday." He laughs. "Yes, now."

"I'm not...dressed." That's not my best excuse, but hopefully it'll do.

"I'll wait."

"I'm out of shape." I try again.

"All the better for you to start running." He leans against the door and smiles.

"I have an incurable disease spread through air!"

"Well, I'm exposed already, so might as well go running while we have the chance."

I narrow my eyes at him. "Is there anything I can say to make you leave?"

"Not a chance." He pushes his way inside and stops in the foyer. "You weren't kidding when you said this place was a mess."

"Cleaning isn't on the top of my priority list right now."

"Go change." He points to the stairs and starts picking up the newspapers piled by the bench. "Go, go."

"Don't clean."

"The quicker you change, the less time I have. Go."

I sigh and run up the stairs. I dig through my endless pile of laundry and pull out the cleanest pair of sweatpants I find, then throw on some tennis shoes. I'm back downstairs in less than two minutes.

"Record time! Let's roll." He opens the door and I begrudgingly follow him outside.

And we run. I wasn't lying when I said I was out of shape. My lungs burn and my legs ach, but the feeling of fresh air somehow makes everything go away for a little while.

Edward doesn't make me talk. In fact, I barely notice he's there, but I do feel him beside me. Just a constant comfort, an anchor. He's the support I need.

When we get back to the house, he insists I go take a shower, because let's face it, I'm rank. His words, not mine. I take longer than normal, shave my legs for the first time in weeks, actually dry my hair and put lotion on my skin. Take time to focus on myself except for the Hell I'm living in. By the time I come downstairs, he's done exactly what I asked him not to. He cleaned.

There are approximately four garbage bags sitting by my front door. The pizza boxes are gone from the living room, there are no more dishes piling up in the kitchen. He even did a load of my laundry.

"Edward," I say, shaking my head. "This wasn't necessary."

"I don't mind, Bella Swan." He smiles. "You look nice."

It's a simple compliment. One I'm not used to hearing often.

I really start to believe that he is my Superman. And for the first time in a long time, I feel like maybe I deserve to be saved.

* * *

**A/N: Who's starting to think Rosalie is maybe not as great as originally thought? *Raises hand* Only time will reveal her true nature, I guess!**

**Thank you so, so much for reading. You are all amazing and I'm so thankful for you. **


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